Between The Devil and The Deep Blue Sea
by RogueMoon
Summary: Sinister visits an old flame and finds Remy waiting for him, looking for answers. A retelling of the story 'A Sinister Heart' from X-Men Annual 1995. Pre-slash. One Shot


**Disclaimer:** I don't own the X-Men nor do I make money from my fiction involving them. Parts of the dialogue were lifted from "A Sinister Heart", published in X-Men Annual 1995. _Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea_ Lyrics are also not mine.

**Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea**

An X-Men Fanfiction

Written by RogueMoon (Kanky)

**::: :::**

It was the same every year. The only thing that changed were the people around them. He, coming in with that long gray, wool coat and matching fedora of his. She, sitting in the wheelchair, unresponsive. The nurses all had names but what was the point in remembering them when they'd eventually be replaced with another face, another name.

They knew him, of course. The handsome face with its neatly trimmed goatee of white hair. The soft, friendly eyes that held a glint of red when the light shined on them just right.

He always came on the same day every year. For close to thirty years he had been coming. It was her birthday.

He greeted the nurse, Doris, and she greeted him. Doris told him that _she_ would be so happy to see him and he asked how she was. Doris was kind in telling him it was the same as always. Sitting there, staring, sometimes speaking. But not to them. To yesterday, the past.

It was the same every year. Doris wasn't always Doris, but the rest remained.

She never seemed to notice him, though the nurses assured him she was more responsive in the days following his visits. He couldn't see any difference though. She was as fragile as ever. Cancer. At some point he might have been able to cure it, but not now. It was too far progressed when he learned of it. The treatment would have killed her. Better to let her live out the time she had.

And she did. For nearly thirty years she had been living out that time.

He didn't know why he still visited her. Not for any reason he could admit to himself. Not that she seemed to notice, lost as she was in the past.

This year should have been no different.

But the room was occupied by more than the woman he came to see. The nurse was shocked, of course. He took it in stride, eying the new guest curiously. The lamp was on and the record player was spinning a soft tune. He knew the words without having to think about them. It was their song. Her song.

_I don't want you_

_But I'd hate to lose you_

_You've got me in between_

_The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea_

He was back there in an instant. That first night he saw her at the party he was throwing for the Hollywood elite. 1933, the Great Depression might have been a fable for all that Tinseltown seemed to notice.

He had a lovely mansion in the Hills. And a lovely mansion meant fabulous parties. The first of many and while the more well known stars were spending their time elsewhere, many of their managers and producers were at his home. The glamor of it all, the mingling among the beautiful. It was almost like the life he used to lead in England as a respected member of the social elite.

She was there, brought by her friend Lucille. He had intended to steal away the blond for the evening, but when he saw her he couldn't take his eyes from her.

Brown hair curled tightly against her skull in careful waves. Dress just close enough to being off the shoulder to be risque without being scandalous. Yellow taffeta cascading to her ankles. And the loveliest blue eyes.

He asked her to dance immediately and never left her arms the rest of the night. He could hear the talk, the whispered gossip about as they kept to each other. Their feet gliding over the floor in a Viennese waltz for hours. The party ended but he never saw any other guest goodbye. He was too busy sweeping her away where he could have her all to himself.

In a secluded corner he asked for permission to kiss her. She breathlessly agreed, lifting herself on her toes to meet his lips.

She was a radio comedienne on the Buck Burns show. Jewish, from Brooklyn. Beautiful and witty and all together charming. So much so he seduced her until shared his home, his bed. It could have been quite the scandal if it ever got out. They were discreet.

For months he hid himself from her. What he did in the basement. What he wanted to achieve. But he had to see if she would... he let her wake one night. Witness him walk through the secret door and down the stairs. He knew her curiosity would have her follow. How could she not?

And so she came. Entered his laboratory. Saw his true face.

She was horrified to the point of fainting.

But he lifted her gently and carried her upstairs in silence. Placing her once more in their shared bed and waiting until she awoke. His visage hadn't changed. He was still white-skinned and red-eyed. He told her then, told her everything. About his dream, his life's work and the deal he made with a devil to achieve the immortality he need to see it through. About her DNA housing the X-gene and the offspring she could produce, the special children who would be far more than human. He shared it all.

She wanted to leave.

He couldn't let her. He needed her too badly. He swore it was only for her DNA.

She acted as they all did to being captive. Yelled and cried and screamed and sobbed and he ignored the pleas. Enacted the experiments and testing as he always did. Used her, but was kind in his own way. Polite with every word, even the ones full of contempt for her reactions. She was so fascinating.

He forced her to see who he was. What he was. Until he broke her completely.

It was raining the night he released her. Wind howling as she ran from him. He watched her, of course. Until the darkness swallowed her form.

He couldn't take her to Europe and Los Angeles was no longer providing the range of subjects he needed. That was the reason he told himself. The mansion was empty within days.

He didn't find her again until nearly twenty years later. She was already in the home, already suffering. He could do nothing but visit.

_I forgive you_

_'Cause I can't forget you_

_You've got me in between_

_The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea_

The other man sat on the bed, dealing a game of solitaire while she sat in her wheelchair staring at nothing. The nurse addressed the man and he looked up, smiling and putting her at ease with a few words. As expected, Doris fell to his sweet talk and left the three of them alone with a laugh.

Red on black eyes met surprisingly human ones and the familiar voice spoke softly into the near silence, a respectful, curious tone, "She means quite a bit ta ya, don't she, Sinister?"

"No further need for masquerade then," He chuckled, allowing his form to ripple into the more familiar lines of Gambit's personal devil. He moved to sit across from her, in the chair next to the record player, "What is the point of this, LeBeau?"

The mutant played another card before shuffling the draw pile, "Every year ya come here, to visit dis Miss Livingstone. Why?"

"My motives are my own," the Doctor returned blandly, a bored expression coming over his features as the door swung shut seemingly of it's own accord. The curtains drew themselves as well, closing the occupants of the room away from the rest of the world.

"Ya love her, I think," Remy continued, playing another card. "Ya got no reason ta visit her otherwise. Wouldn't dat just beat all. De monster who think himself above de rest o' us, actually feelin' somet'ing for another human being. Wonder if ya could live wit' yourself if ya ever admitted dat."

"You are treading on dangerous grounds, LeBeau. If you are only here to mock me with wild theories, I suggest you stop while you're ahead. I am a busy man."

"Course ya are," the Cajun smirked, laying the final card and winning the game. He began picking the plastic pieces up. "Faye's a belle femme. I did some research, ya know. About who she was. An' who she used ta date. Did ya know de two o' you made de society page o' de Hollywood Times in '34? Nathan Essex, European Viscount or somet'ing. All smiles and eyes only for de pretty lady on your arm."

Gambit looked over at her, smiling softly, "Dat got me thinkin'. Ya kinda been stalkin' her ever since, ya know? Visitin' her every year. Even though she catatonic at best, oui? Must be for somet'ing. Can't be 'cause o' her skills or DNA. If it were, ya'd just take it an clone her, oui? We been talkin', de two of us. Well, mostly me. Tellin' her about all de two o' us been through. Thought it might be good for her ta know she ain't de only one ya been oddly interested in before."

At this, Sinister frowned, "And what kind of things have you been saying, exactly?"

"Oh, it ain't like she goin' spill ya secrets, _Nathan_. Nah. De staff don't think she got much time left, ya know... maybe a few weeks at best. Ya goin' ta go ta de funeral?"

The Doctor had his eyes on Faye as he nodded, "Probably. Unless something more pressing comes up. You are in a particularly social mood today."

Remy shrugged, dealing the cards out again, "Like I said, had some time ta do some thinkin'. 'Sides, ya didn't come ta hurt her or dose fine people workin' here. Figured I'd be kind and keep de peace. Wouldn't be much o' a hero if I did otherwise. And no, I don't have plans to tell anyone ya secret. About ya comin' here."

"I wasn't worried that you would, I assure you," Sinister replied, raising an eyebrow as he stood and moved to Faye's side, taking her hand in his. "Excuse me for a moment, my boy. I have business."

_I ought to cross you off my list_

_But when you come knocking at my door_

_Fate seems to give my heart a twist_

_And I come running back for more_

They were dancing once more. She was in that same dress. Never mind that they could only meet each other with minds merged via his telepathy. He didn't smile, but he shut his eyes as he held her close.

She smiled up at him, "All these years you've come to see me... to be with me. And I could do nothing to respond. I've been powerless in that wheelchair, but I knew you were there. I know what you want, too. Why you've come to see me like this, why it's important enough to do it in front of that boy. You want to say good-bye... to make amends for all the cruel things you did to me... It's so... sweet."

She laughed, that perfect laugh he could never forget and even as he turned his head away from her, she pressed ever closer, "You know... I never married. And... I didn't have any children. The child you wanted me to give birth to... that perfect offspring you were so eager to see... will never exist because of you, my love."

They spun around, the steps of the waltz placing her back against his front for a moment. Her fingers brushing over his in a gentle caress before he spun her again, placing her at his side. She couldn't stop smiling, "And I'm certain I meant more to you than some... gene bank. There was always something unspoken between us. Something you have never been able to admit and that which has sustained me all these long, cold years. I can let go now. Of all the pain and rage for what you did... because... despite all you have done, you _failed_. You tried so hard to use the love that exists in every person to reach inside me and take what you wanted. But I ended up doing the same..."

They stopped. She stopped and reached up to touch his face, "I touched something deep, deep withing you... And I think the young man out there has as well. You are not as cold as you pretend to be. Live with this knowledge beloved..."

Faye pushed herself up, balancing on her toes as she pressed a kiss to his lips.

_I should hate you_

_But I guess I love you_

_You've got me in between_

_The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea_

He opened his eyes to find Remy staring at him intently. At the woman pressed to his chest and the lips that held his.

A smirk of satisfaction played on the young man's lips as Sinister set the now unresponsive woman back in her wheelchair, "What did she say ta ya? Must have been somet'ing grand de way she be all over ya homme."

Sinister pulled back and turned so he was looking at the record player. He picked up the needle and set it to repeat the song. Their song.

"I have a home in Los Angeles. It sits in near ruins now."

"Dat so?"

"It's where we used to live."

"Oh."

"It has a lovely view of the ocean."

Cards were shuffled quietly.

"Why are you here, Remy? What purpose does this serve for you? What did you tell her?"

Gambit shrugged, not that Sinister could see the gesture, and began laying out the next game, "I told her about us. What ya done ta me. What ya still be doin'. All dat obsession ya got over me an' de X-Men and all dat. Mostly de stuff ya keep tellin' me. About being there for me. Was askin' her if ya ever told her dat, too..."

"Why?"

Remy remained silent as he place a few more cards. His voice quiet when he finally answered, "For some reason, ya de only one who ever say dat ta me... dat I can't help but believe be tellin' de truth. An' dat's pretty damn disturbing all things considered. Not even Rogue ever say dat ta me and mean it. Much as I wanted ta believe she did every single time she say it. But she don't. Not wit' de way she leave me and we play dat relationship roller coaster..."

"I don't particularly care about your love live or lack there of, Remy."

The cards were picked up again, shuffled, "Why do ya care, Sinister? What's de point?"

"I have an interest in your DNA, I thought that would be clear by now."

"If dat were all, you would have just taken my DNA at any time and cloned me like ya did Jeanie an' de Marauders. Just like ya could have done wit' Faye. But ya didn't..."

Sinister turned his head, looking over his shoulder at the man, "Is this going somewhere?"

Remy looked up and met his eyes, "I think ya care about me. And not in dat weird science poke n' prod kind o' way. Just not sure if its in a friendly way or a more dan friends way."

Essex wasn't the kind of man to roll his eyes, but the look he gave Gambit clearly got across the same sentiment, "You are deluding yourself."

"And yet, ya still here."

"I am here to see Faye."

"You've seen her. Talked ta her too, from de looks o' it. Now ya talkin' ta me. Would ya prefer ta talk somewhere else? Like maybe dat mansion o' yours wit' de veiw?" He could hear Remy lifting himself off the bed. Feet padding near silently the few steps it took to come up behind him. A hand, warm and full of life, resting against the small of his back. Breath hot on his ear, the voice contemplative, "Not sure which one I want ya to feel. Not sure what I feel, really. Been through a lot recently. Wit' de X-Men, wit' Rogue... Most of it not good. And de only one I can count on being dere is a man I hate. I think, just for dat, I'd rather ya be liking me in a more dan friends way."

"I fail to see to the advantage in that, LeBeau," his voice was nearly a whisper, eyes half lidded as he listened to that charming voice. The feel of the Cajun's forehead pressing against his shoulder was slightly more distracting than it had a right to be, but he did not pull away. The heat of another body was welcome.

"If ya interested in de physical... it's easier ta deal wit'. Can always pretend until de morning comes..." The stress in his voice was audible even with the near silence as he whispered the words. "Sometimes... I just want ta feel... wanted."

Now that was something Sinister could agree with. It was a pleasant feeling, to be wanted. And it had been a very long time since he had felt that from anyone he cared enough to want that feeling from. Malice had never counted, despite her devotion.

No, currently the only person he wanted that feeling from was the man standing behind him. He didn't know why. It wasn't love, of course. Couldn't be as far as he was concerned. But all the same...

_The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea_

When the nurse returned to check up on them, she found the room empty of all but Faye, who was smiling down at an unfinished game of solitaire. Doris began cleaning up the cards and realized whichever of the men left it had made a mistake.

The King of Hearts was laid over the King of Diamonds.

**::: :::**

End


End file.
